


Only Ever In Dreams

by SoaringClaws



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drama, F/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoaringClaws/pseuds/SoaringClaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Buffy dies, she asks Spike to guide and train the future Slayers. Can the spiritual intervention of a rule-breaking Slayer and the guidance of a reformed vampire change the fate of the Chosen One?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! It's my first posted story ever! This is going to be posted in 3 parts, which have been finished and run through my final editing processes (aka my husband answering a thousand questions about what order things should go in and whether he likes a line of dialogue. Thanks, honey!).
> 
> Story title, Only Ever In Dreams, is pulled from the song Sad Dream by Sky Ferreira. Check it out if you want to hear the song that inspired me to write. My playlists are a major part of my writing process, so it felt important to share it. If you want to listen while you read, here's the link to my Spotify playlist. 
> 
> https://play.spotify.com/user/1220891629/playlist/2IgCoddPBnxyvaHpcbivPC
> 
> There aren't specific songs for scenes or anything, it's more about mood setting, so enjoy as you see fit. 
> 
> Story Notes: The scenes in this are disjointed and bounce around in time. There will be some confusion when reading, I'm sure, but reading further will clear up the timeline and characters that are introduced. Also, there is a warning for character death for a reason! However, I hate tragedy, so you can expect everything to turn out pretty well.

“C’mon Slayer, keep up or we’re gonna lose him.” The black duster had already disappeared around the corner of the building and she was panting hard. There was no way she could catch him! She stopped for a moment, reaching out her awareness. There! The demon had taken another turn, trying to lead them around in circles. If she went the other way, they could corner it behind the club. She took off in the other direction, pushing herself hard, knowing that the chase would be over soon.

Up ahead, she could see the demon. He was focused on Spike, seeing the immediate threat of the vampire on his tail. Wham! She tackled the demon from the side, throwing both of them to the ground behind the club.

“Nice one, Slayer,” Spike stepped up to the grappled demon, leaned down, and twisted its neck. Dead.

Maria got up, wiping the dirt from her shirt and stretching her back. “Can we be done for the night?” She looked down at the dead demon at her feet, “I think I must be getting old or something. That thing looks way too big to be able to outrun me.”

Spike barked out a laugh, “You’re getting old? Tell me how you feel at 198.” He looked the body over, “We’re gonna need to get rid of this before we go home, but then I think we can call it a night.”

They dragged the body to the pier, not too far off, and dumped it into the water. At least no one was likely to see them dumping a body at 3AM. That was all she needed, a criminal record to top off her glamorous life.

“You still having trouble sleeping?” Spike checked her over for injuries as they walked back, “You seem tired.” They had reached the edge of the cemetery and continued to walk into one of the neighborhoods surrounding it.

Maria shrugged, “The usual. I think the old Slayers are getting restless. I’m all for words of wisdom, but do they have to bother me every night?” She could see the house at the end of the block and heaved out a sigh of relief. “Finally! My feet hurt so bad!”

“Well if you’d stop wearing those damn ridiculous shoes, that wouldn’t be a problem. Gonna break your bloody ankle.”

She looked down at her strappy heels and smiled, “Buffy thinks they’re cute.”

“Well, she would. Never could get the silly chit to sacrifice style for slaying,” Spike unlocked the door to the house and let Maria in ahead of him, checking for any tailing beasties before locking the door behind them.

“I’m gonna hit the shower and then bed. I’ll see you in the morning, Spike.”

“Probably more like afternoon,” Spike surveyed the clock then smiled a little at Maria, “If you see Buffy, give her my love.”

“I always do.”

\--

When Buffy had started to get sick, Spike and the Scoobies had gone looking for a mystical problem. The slayer didn’t get ill so it had to be an enemy, someone playing with them. It had been too late by the time they had realized that the cause wasn’t of the supernatural variety. Not that they could have done too much anyways. It had to be beyond bad to take down a Slayer.

About a month before she died, Spike sat on the edge of her bed, stroking her hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed in pleasure. Just a normal quiet moment. His hand dipped down to trace the crow’s feet around her eyes, causing her to scowl.

“Every time you do that it makes me feel old.”

Spike smiled at her, “You’re not nearly old yet, love. I think they’re cute.”

“The nurses think I’m a cougar,” but she grinned when she said it. She thoroughly enjoyed the sight of him, still young and beautiful and all hers. “Wouldn’t they be surprised to find out that you’re actually a cradle-robber.”

“186 isn’t that old,” Spike’s expression became distant and Buffy could only guess why.

“Spike?” He looked down at her face, refocusing. “When I… You know… You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

Spike looked away, not meeting her eyes, “I’ve lived a long time, pet.”

“And you’re going to live even longer,” Buffy grabbed his hand with all of her Slayer strength, “You’re going to see everything that I won’t be able to see and you’re going to live. You got that?” When he finally looked at her, he was startled by the force of her stare.

He bristled, hand clenching as he went on the defensive, “Why does it matter!? You won’t be here, so why should you care if I’m around or not?”

Buffy looked hurt, “Of course, I care!”

“I’m sorry, Slayer,” Spike relaxed his tight fists, holding her hand gently again, “I just don’t know if I can do it this time. Last time, I had Dawn to think about. She kept me going. But she doesn’t need me to take care of her anymore. There’s nothing for me here once you’re gone.”

“What if you had someone to take care of? Something I needed you to do?”

“What do you mean, love?”

“I had wanted to ask you, but I didn’t think it was fair. I mean, after I’m gone you can do whatever you want. You can go wherever you want. But…”

“You know you can ask me, whatever it is.” She looked him straight in the eyes, determined now. He had learned to fear that look over the years.

“I want you to train the Slayer.”

“What?!”

Buffy kept going, eager to go on now that she had started, “I was so lost when I started. I had my Watcher but he didn’t really know what it was like to suddenly be different. You know. You know Slayers better than anyone, and you know I’m not talking sexually, so you can wipe that leer off your face,” Spike’s lecherous grin fell into a pout at his failed diversion attempt. “You’re strong. You can watch the new girl’s back. She can have a real chance at life without an expiration date.”

“Another Slayer isn’t gonna be as crazy as you, love. No Slayer is gonna trust a vampire to watch her back.”

“They will if I tell them too. My memories will be overwhelming compared to the other Slayers. I’m more recent and I have more time to remember than the past 20 Slayers combined. They’ll trust you because a part of them will have loved you.” Spike shifted uneasily, trying not to look into her fervent eyes any longer than he had to. “Please, Spike.” His head shot up as her pleading voice cracked, “I need you to do this for me. I know it’s not right to ask, but they need you to be there for them. I need to know that they’re not going to be alone. We don’t want to be alone again.”

Spike bundled her to his chest as her tears began to fall, sadness for the lonely Slayers of the past overwhelming her, “It’s alright, Pet. I’ll do it. I’d do anything for you.” He buried his face in her hair so she wouldn’t see him cry.

\--

The funeral was held at night. Buffy would have been proud, Spike thought, to see the turnout. The crowd held humans and demons, friends, and strangers that she had saved. Even Illyria had chosen to attend, though Spike would occasionally hear her asking Angel to explain some facet of the funeral service and then scoffing at the answer, “Humans are very odd,” the god would say.

Spike stood unmoving near the grave, even after the service was done. Buffy’s friends made a point of patting him on the arm or saying something comforting as they walked past him. None of it made any difference to Spike. Dawn hugged him on the way out, “We’re going out to eat with everyone but we’ll see you back at your house.” Spike managed to nod as she walked away, holding Xander’s hand.

When almost everyone else was gone, Willow approached, putting a hand on Spike’s arm, “Buffy told me what she asked you to do.” Spike continued to stare at the tombstone, unblinking. Willow knew he was listening though, “If you need me, just call. I’ll be around for a while.” She said this assuredly, causing Spike to finally look at her. Sure enough, the witch looked like she hadn’t aged a day past 25. She caught his look, “Found a de-aging spell. I’m not done here yet.” She looked around the cemetery. She wasn’t done living yet. Not like Buffy. “I’ll see you around, Spike.” She patted his arm again and was gone.

Andrew, who had been hovering around, approached next. He hugged Spike enthusiastically, and Spike could still see traces of tears on the Watcher’s face. They stood in silence for a moment. This time, Spike spoke, “You’re still short on Watchers, right?”

Andrew nodded, “We’re trying to train some new ones, but it’s been hard to recruit ever since Caleb bombed headquarters.”

“How long has your current Slayer been in operation?”

“Carly’s been the Slayer for about 2 years. She was called a little while after Faith passed. She’s with one of the older Watchers in Cleveland. You should see that girl with a crossbow, whew-wee!”

“Tell her Watcher to get in touch with me. You have my number,” Spike ran a lingering hand over the tombstone, tracing the letters that spelled out ‘Buffy Summers Pratt’ with the pad of his thumb. Leaving Andrew standing in the cemetery, Spike turned away from the grave, his duster swishing back and forth as he disappeared into the dark.

\--

The red-haired girl dodged around a punch, getting inside the vampire’s guard to land a solid blow to his sternum. He flew back, hitting the brick wall next to the dumpster. She pushed forward, her stake to his heart as her eyes glowed with malevolent promise. The threat was there, but she didn’t kill him yet.

“I want you to tell me where the nest is,” the tall girl had an icy voice, contrasting plainly with the fiery color of her hair and wildness of her movements. When the vampire struggled, she pressed the stake a little harder against his chest, “Your kind should know by now that I don’t play games.”

The vampire smirked suddenly, “Neither do we.” Her vamp senses started tingling so suddenly that it felt more like a bucket of ice water poured down her shirt than a light niggling feeling on her neck. She knew she was surrounded, but that didn’t prepare her for the panic that overcame her when another vampire appeared directly behind her. She had no time to react. His knife was coming towards her, but her muscles had locked up.

“Carly!” A shout from the roof above the alleyway drew most of the attention away from the red-haired slayer. Unfortunately, it hardly seemed to bother her knife wielding adversary, though the bleached blonde man in black leather that jumped down to catch the knife in his chest threw even Mr. Focused into a tizzy.

Freed from her panic induced paralysis, Carly let her fists and stakes fly, backed by the man in black. The knife to the chest wasn’t slowing him down as much as it should and catching a glimpse of his face a minute later explained why. Her companion was very clearly a vampire. She tried not to give it too much thought as she let adrenaline guide her through the battle.

As the last vampire dusted, Carly looked down at her partner. She was a bit taller than him, which surprised her. Without the fog of battle clouding her thoughts, Carly was able to discern exactly who this was. And with a reputation like Spike’s, she would certainly expect someone taller. He surveyed her professionally, checking for injuries and weaknesses at the same time that he was checking for her weapons and potential threat level. It annoyed Carly to the extreme.

“Thanks, but I had that handled.”

Spike snorted at that, “Are all you Slayers built with the same default phrases?”

“Maybe, but we’re not all built with the same friendly inclination towards vampires, no matter how Buffy and Faith made it look,” she snarked back, her signature venom tongue taking over.

That managed to get an aggressive response from Spike, “You’d do well to watch your words when talking about your forebears. They had a lot of friends and lived longer lives than you’re likely looking at.”

Carly couldn’t help but flinch whenever her imminent demise was brought up, “I intend to live a very long life, and the first way to ensure that is to not spend time hanging out around vampires. I see you again, I dust you.” She turned on her heel and began to saunter quickly down the alley.

The vampire shouted after her, “Buffy sent me to keep you alive, you know. She wanted me to train you.”

“Good for her,” Carly flipped him the bird as she turned the corner and disappeared into the city.

He didn’t approach her again, though she could often feel him checking in on her. Her Watcher said that Spike had wanted to take Carly with him to the Hellmouth to train, or be allowed to oversee her combat training. Both offers had been summarily refused. They were doing just fine. The Watcher had told Spike to keep to his own turf and they would call him if an apocalypse happened. Unfortunately, it didn’t take an apocalypse. Just an unguarded back in the heat of battle and Carly was no more.

A teenaged girl watched, a phantom, as the slayer with curly red hair fell to the ground with a broken neck. The black clad man- no, vampire- arrived long after. He took out the demons that surrounded her body. When they were dead, he knelt beside the woman. After a few long moments, he wiped at his face, composed himself, and picked up the body to take back to her Watcher.

“It’s hard to watch, but it’s important to know.” Maria looked up at the blonde woman with the sharp eyes who had spoken and was now standing beside her. “A Slayer should never be alone,” she continued, sadly, “You’re doing really well with your training, but it won’t be enough without a team.”

The scene in front of them changed to a large conference room. The Watchers were arguing amongst themselves. Alonna, Maria’s Watcher, stood with her mother, Dawn, and a large contingent of the more radical Watchers on one side of the room. The stodgy older Watchers held firmly to the other side of the room.

One of the older Watchers spoke up, “We can’t possibly trust a vampire with our Slayer. It goes against centuries of Council doctrine.”

“Buffy didn’t think so,” Dawn’s voice was firm, “And where has it led the past Slayers who followed all the outdated Council rules? The Council needs to do everything it can to ensure the survival and success of the Slayer and that means allowing her to train with Spike at the Hellmouth.”

Alonna stepped forward, “The Slayer’s wishes are what is important. If Maria wants to go, we will train in the United States with Spike. Until she decides, this debate is closed.”

The uproar caused by her bold statement dimmed as the scene faded away and changed.

They were looking into a temple, lit only with candles. A red haired woman that Maria didn’t recognize sat with her eyes closed in a drawn circle surrounded by crystals. The woman must have heard something and she looked over her shoulder towards Maria and the blonde woman. Her eyes were glowing white, giving her an eerie and mystical appearance. She seemed to see them then, and she waved to the blonde woman who waved back.

A final scene change showed a perky suburban house awash in daylight. Through the window, Maria could see a man with short brown hair talking on the phone. As he turned to begin pacing the room, Maria recognized him. It was the platinum-haired vampire, now not so platinum. He was gesturing with his hands as he argued with someone.

The blonde woman finally spoke, “He’s talking to the Council now. They’re still debating whether you should train with him rather than in England.”

“Why are you showing me these people?” Maria asked her guide.

“Soon, you’ll be asked to trust someone who can help you. I want you to take the leap. I can do my best to guide you, but it’s up to you to follow your gut.” The woman smiled and held out her hand for Maria to shake, “I’m Buffy. You can learn from my experience, my mistakes, and if you let us help you, you have the chance to become the best Slayer that has ever lived.”

 


	2. Part 2

“Why am I letting you keep my eyes covered again? Something is going to pop out and attack us.”

“For the love of-,” Spike took an exasperated breath, “For the hundredth time, nothing is going to try to get a bite of you while I’m standing right next to you in the middle of the bleedin’ town. We’re almost there.”

He kept her eyes covered as they walked up the street from the car, making sure to warn her of the curb before they stepped up onto the sidewalk. She could hear an odd nervousness in his voice when he said, “You ready, love?”

“Come on already! You’ve been being all mystery guy today,” she reached up to hold his hands firmly over her eyes just as he started to remove them. “I am going to like this, right? It’s not like, ‘Surprise! A nest of slimy demons living over a mass grave of mutilated human corpses!’ Because you have bad ideas sometimes.”

Spike chuckled, “I think this is one of my better ideas. At least, I haven’t found any mass graves yet. With your luck, if I say there aren’t any for sure we’ll fall into one within the hour.”

Buffy squirmed and tugged at his hands now, “Okay! I’m impatient again. Show me already!” With that, the hands were removed from her eyes and Buffy was left blinking against the streetlight overhead. When her vision cleared, she laughed. They were standing in front of the most stereotypically Stepford house Buffy had ever seen. The cute white-trimmed yellow cottage was set back from the street with just enough room for a well-manicured patch of grass, bordered on every side by flowers and shrubs. The single tree would shade the front porch during the day, and was just big enough for the small swing that hung from the branches. A white picket fence completed the image of suburban perfection. On the mailbox, in carefully painted script, was the name Pratt.

“The windows are all necro-tempered glass. Had to call Angel to get the number of his supplier, but thought dealing with the Poof for a little while would be worth it in the long run,” he shrugged.

“I thought you said that a picket fence was too dangerous?” Buffy couldn’t help but tease.

“They are bloody dangerous, but what kind of boring suburban couple would we be without a white picket fence? Had to complete the disguise.”

She laughed again, “We’re really going to do this? We’re going to live here?”

“Why not? We have everything we need. Active Hellmouth, house equipped with vamp-approved glass, and I checked, there’s a 24-hour butcher just a few blocks away. Not to mention, a short walk to work.” He spun her around by her shoulders to face across the street. Rolling Meadows Cemetery lay sprawled out before them.

Buffy looked up at Spike, meeting his adoring blue eyes with her own teary hazel. She bit her lip, “Can we go look inside?”

“Sure.” He led her up the walk to the front door, unlocked it with his key, and held the door open for his beloved Slayer, “Welcome home, Buffy.”

The next morning, they lay in bed, curled around each other. The curtains had been pushed back and the sunlight was playing across Spike’s features in a way that Buffy rarely got to appreciate.

“Now go vampy face,” she demanded, tracing her finger over his nose and eyebrows.

“Demanding woman,” he scoffed, though his eyes spoke pure affection as he obliged. His fangs descended as his brow line grew ridged. Buffy continued to trace her fingers over his face, liking the way the warm light made the angles even more dramatic, but somehow softer too. She couldn’t imagine what it had felt like to fear this face before, especially with the loud vampire purr that now filled the room and rumbled through the bed. She smiled at him as he nuzzled her hand.

Kimiko watched the memory unfold from her viewpoint in the couple’s bedroom doorway, a silent and invisible observer to this other life. Suddenly, Buffy turned to face her and spoke, “You’re in danger. Wake up now, get out, and find him. I’ll guide you.”

Kimi woke, drenched in sweat, to the sound of a world-shattering scream tearing through her house.

\--

Maria knelt in front of the grave first, setting a small bouquet of daisies at the base of the stone. “Hi, Buffy. It’s been a little while since I talked to you. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Either you think I’m hopeless or you haven’t had anything to scold me about recently. If it’s the second one, can you let your vampire know? ‘Cause he always seems to find something to gripe about. Maybe he’s just entering grumpy old man age,” she grinned up at Spike who looked dramatically offended.

“201 is not old. Talk to my poof of a grandsire if you want to know about old and crochety.”

“Uh huh,” Maria rolled her eyes.

Willow chimed in, “Angel was probably crochety when he was in diapers. It’s just who he is. You have no such excuse for being a grumpasaurus. I’m with Maria on the angry old man theory.”

“And you’re such a spring chicken, eh Red? High time for you to be yelling at the neighborhood kiddies from your rocking chair as I recall,” Spike prodded slyly at the witch. Willow stuck her tongue out at him, her young face and bubbly personality hiding every one of her years.

Daniel zipped by Spike’s legs, followed by a breathless Alonna who finally managed to scoop him up, “You’re both ancient to me, but you’re also supernaturally fast, which is so not fair. So who wants to take a turn corralling the niblet while I pay my respects to Aunt Buffy?” Her hyper 4 year old was already squirming in her arms. Willow and Spike looked at each other, silent challenges passing between their eyes before Spike let out a loud sigh, “I guess I’ve got ‘im. Come on, bite-sized.” Spike swept the little boy into his arms before setting him on his shoulders and jogging off.

Maria looked back at Buffy’s headstone. “Umm… Anyways, I’m getting married tomorrow. I even managed to convince Spike to walk me down the aisle. I wanted to come out to see you because this wouldn’t be happening without you and Spike. So thank you. I hope wherever you are, you’re as happy as I am.” She stood up, resting one hand briefly on the headstone and crossing herself respectfully before Alonna took her place in front of the grave.

After Alonna was done, Willow spent a bit of time renewing the spells around Buffy’s grave. The spells weren’t anything much for the witch, just a couple of things to ensure that the headstone could never be broken or worn away and a charm for keeping dirt off of it. They were made to last, but she liked to check up on them when she could.

The group left shortly after, heading off to their homes for the night, though Spike sat for a while longer in the cemetery.

He pulled weeds around the grave absentmindedly as he talked, telling Buffy about his week. He had repainted the house. A few pipes had needed to be checked, so he had called a demon he knew to take a look. Dawn had called. She was keeping busy with the restructuring of the Watcher’s academy. Her new curriculum, focusing on group tactical strategies and allowing specialization in the final years at the academy, was proving to be both popular and successful. Xander had strained his back again, which Dawn couldn’t help but feel smug about. She had told him it would happen if he kept trying to keep up with the young Watchers.

Spike laughed as he relayed Dawn’s story. He tried to replicate the voice she used when she was quoting Xander, lowering her high voice into a sarcastic growl that never failed to get a grin from Spike, but he didn’t think he was doing it justice.

Finally, he sat back in the grass and let the silence surround him. He touched the headstone reverently. “I miss you, Buffy. The world isn’t the same place without you. But I guess it’s not so bad sometimes. I’d better get going. If I don’t get some sleep I’ll look like the walking dead for the wedding tomorrow.” He smiled at his own weak joke, imagining Buffy’s groan and the way she would roll her eyes. “I’ll come visit again next week. You know me, I can’t stay away.” With one last lingering look at her grave, Spike turned around and walked towards the house.

\--

Again, the funeral was held at night. Again, it was packed with people wanting to pay their respects and say their goodbyes to a beloved Slayer. Unlike last time, Spike and Angel were not the only vampires to attend. Maria had been open and trusting, though smart about it. She had managed to make friends with all of the demons who could possibly coexist peacefully with humans and it had changed the Hellmouth forever. Her selfless sacrifice at the end had only solidified her place of honor in the eyes of the town.

Maria’s two teenaged daughters were led away at the end of the funeral by their father and a contingent of demon protectors. No baddie would be preying on these girls in their grief.

When all was quiet and empty again, Spike stood vigil over her grave. Maria hadn’t had much family connection outside of the Hellmouth, so it had been agreed that she would be buried in Rolling Meadows Cemetery beside her mentor Slayer. Now, he looked down sadly at his two girls, their headstones nearly buried in flowers and offerings.

“We had a good run, didn’t we sweethearts?” He sat down, running his hand over the smooth lines of a small carved statue of Anubis that had been left for Maria. “Don’t rightly know what I’ll do now, what with you two and Dawn all gone. Even Alonna’s headed back to the motherland. ‘M feeling all at loose ends,” he sighed, splaying his hands out behind him for balance as he tipped his head back to look at the sky. “Can I join you yet, Buffy? Just give me the sign that I’m done, that I’ve done my good, and I’ll fight my way to you in an instant.”

The sound of panting, panicked breath and the smell of fear had Spike on his feet in seconds. A girl, maybe 16, was running towards him, looking behind her every few steps. Her long black hair was whipping free around her face, hopelessly tangled, and her clothes were torn and tattered. Her almond eyes went wide when she saw him, a spark of hope igniting their depths.

“Spike!” She threw herself into his arms, while he stared at her, stunned. “You have to help me, they got my family! She told me you would help! Please, help!” The girl was frantic, and as Spike looked out at the horizon, he knew why. Demons on horseback shouted battle cries as they raised their weapons into the air and charged.

Spike looked back up to the sky as he thrust the girl behind him, “Very funny, pet! I guess I got your soddin’ sign!” Somewhere out there, Spike was sure that Buffy was laughing at him.

“Can you fight at all, Slayer?”

“It’s Kimiko. Not Slayer,” she was surprisingly vehement for someone shaking with terrified adrenaline. Kimi took a deep breath to steady herself, starting to feel true hope for the first time in a week, “I think I can. Buffy showed me some.”

“Watch my back, but don’t take risks. We’re gonna keep you alive,” he passed her the knife from his boot. Fists and fangs would do for him just fine.

He leveled his eyes at the huntsmen again, cracked his neck, and charged out into the cemetery grounds to meet his new challenge.

\--

“You do realize we’re moving to China, right? You will so not have enough room to keep all of this in the city,” Kimiko looked at the massive stack of books teetering near the end of the couch.

Spike poked his head out from his bedroom, “I’m not completely thick, Slayer. Most of it is staying right where it is. I just need a bag and then I’ll be ready to go.”

The house was a cheerful mess of old and new, covered in happy colors and cozy textures that did not fit the rough warrior image that Kimi had always associated with her vampire Watcher. She had imagined him as more of a Spartan bachelor pad type. Instead, two plushy recliners piled high with crocheted throw blankets sat in nooks in the living room. The small side table next to one chair held a dog-eared book and a mug with suspiciously red residue coating the inside. An easel stood by one window, holding a half-finished painting. A kayak rested against a different wall. The TV was surrounded by video game consoles and movies. She supposed that Spike must get bored sometimes in his long life.

As Kimiko continued to walk through the house, she noted that the kitchen was well-used and well-stocked. Another surprise. Why would a vampire need a functional kitchen? She paused to touch the row of plants on the kitchen window sill. They were so pretty that she had thought they must be fake, but that wasn’t the case. Curiouser and curiouser.

Her self-directed tour took her farther down the hall. On the right were the bathroom and the room she had seen Spike go into to get his things. She glanced to the left. The door was open a crack, showing a room that looked like a study. As the Slayer, it was her duty to investigate. At least that was how she would justify it if Spike got angry about her snooping.

She pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. Despite the bed in one corner, the room was very clearly a study. Bookshelves almost completely covered the walls, yet they were so packed that there were a few stacks of books on the floor. A writing desk held a little computer, seemingly on the only space not covered in pieces of paper. Kimiko browsed some of the book spines as she walked deeper into the room. Tennyson, Keats, Rowling, Wordsworth, Summers, Nicholson, Pratt. The last name caught her attention. She had seen it painted on the mailbox and engraved on Buffy’s headstone. She was pretty sure it was the name Spike went by when he was trying to pass for human.

Unable to stem her curiosity, Kimi picked up the book. It was a book of poems, written by William Pratt. She opened the cover to check the publishing date. The date was just two years previous, right before Kimi had been called as the Slayer. She flipped another page in, looking at the dedication.

_To all of the wonderful women in my life, who make each day worth experiencing, and in loving memory of Buffy Pratt, my dearest partner in greatness._

It was a little tragic to love someone so much after so long, Kimi thought, as she turned to the back cover. She snorted when she saw the author’s biography. There was a picture of an old man that was definitely not Spike and an equally made up life story. Then again, when she noted that the first book by William Pratt had been published nearly 60 year ago, she figured his real picture would raise more suspicion than his fake one.

Kimi set the book back on the shelf. There were a bunch of volumes next to it by Dawn Summers who, from what she could get from Spike, had been Buffy’s sister. She had been head of the Watcher’s academy and written a lot of books on demonology and Slayer history.

A wall of photographs caught Kimi’s eye next. The space had been done up in a collage of frames, and the photos ranged from incredibly old and dated to the brand new style featuring people Kimi knew. She reached out a tentative finger to touch a picture of Spike and Buffy, both splattered in paint as they stood triumphantly in the freshly painted living room.

“That’s one of my favorites,” Spike’s voice made her jump as he reached out a hand and took the photo off of the wall, placing it in the duffel bag that hung on his shoulder.

Kimi pointed to another one of the photos, “Who are these people?”

“Well that one there is Dawn at her college graduation,” he pointed to the next picture, “And over here is her daughter, Alonna, right after Daniel was born. You can see his pudgy little face sticking out of the blankets a bit. You might recognize Maria from your dreams. This is at her wedding. And I’ve got another one somewhere with her husband and her two girls. Oh! There it is!” He pulled a picture down from the wall and showed it to Kimi before putting it back. The girls looked just like their mom, all pretty darkly tanned skin and shiny dark brown hair.

She pointed to another picture, featuring a big, brunette man and a woman that she recognized as a young Faith, “I haven’t seen this guy around, but I’ve met Faith.”

Spike chuckled, “Lucky you. That’s my grandsire, Angelus. He’s a big broody bloke, though he was a lot more fun to be around when Faith was alive. We’ll stop by his place in LA on our way out of the country so you can meet him.” He touched the picture next to the one of Angel and Faith, this one old and brown with age, “This one is my sire, Dru, though she’s been dust for years now. Buffy grumbled a bit about having her picture up here, but I didn’t fail to point out that her ex had a spot on the wall.”

He named a few more people, pointing out Joyce, Xander, Tara, Anya, and Giles. She already knew some of the others, like Willow and Daniel. Kimi chuckled at a skewed shot of Spike on the porch steps drinking blood from a mug, his brow quirked at the photographer.

“That one was taken by Maria, but she couldn’t hold the camera still to save her life. That was the only one out of seventy pictures to not come out blurry, so she was proud of it."

There was one remaining picture that Kimi had been nervous to ask about. It was a picture of Spike and a pretty woman at a party. His arm was looped around her waist affectionately, but she didn’t look like any of the women in his extended adopted family.

Spike caught her look and quirked a half smile at her, “I can see the curiosity eating you up. This is a woman I dated for a while. Her name was Alexis. She wasn’t a Hellmouth native, so she didn’t know much about the supernatural. She thought I was a regular bloke that aged really well. After about 3 years, she wanted to move on to a new town so I broke it off. It was about… 15 years after Buffy had died that I met her.”

Kimi was, even if a bit unreasonably, stunned, “I can’t believe you dated someone. But you and Buffy-“

He cut her off with a slice of his hand, “There has never been, and I’d wager never will be, anyone I love as much as Buffy. But I’m no monk. And if there is one thing that Buffy taught me, it’s that we aren’t meant to live without love. She wouldn’t want that for me, and I’d be a miserable bastard if I tried to live like that.”

“I’ve never seen you with anyone,” Kimiko pointed out, attempting to justify her shock.

Spike rubbed his hands through his hair and over his neck in quick, uncomfortable gestures, “It’s not like I date that often. And I don’t really do long term relationships. But it’s nice sometimes, to meet new people. Gets lonely.” He looked at Kimiko seriously, “Buffy has been gone for 57 years. I would have followed her out if she hadn’t asked me to keep an eye on things, but while I’m in this world I’m going to live.”

Kimiko nodded her understanding, “How come there isn’t a wedding picture of you two? Of you and Buffy, I mean.” Though she had been looking for it, there didn’t seem to be such a picture on the wall.

Spike laughed a little. “We weren’t actually married, she just changed her name when we moved to help us blend in and stay under the radar. Her stint as a jewel thief kind of left its mark on her record,” catching Kimi’s startled look at that mention of Buffy’s past, he held up his hands in a warding gesture, “Don’t ask. ” He shrugged, “So, yeah, didn’t see much point in getting legally married with a bunch of faked paperwork and neither of us being the religious sorts. We just were what we were.”

“She still misses you, and she wants you to be happy. So does Maria.” She stopped, tilting her head a bit as she listened to the Slayers clamoring in her head, “Faith doesn’t really care as long as you don’t irritate Angel into a self-dusting. And she says that she misses your bleached look. And she wants to know if you can find a way to send smokes between dimensions.”

“Are they always that present?” Spike asked, rolling his eyes at Faith’s comments.

“Not usually. I think looking at their pictures is connecting me to them a little bit more than normal. They see something that they recognize and it makes them jump forward. Does that make sense? It helps in battle, when suddenly I can identify and counter a fighting style I’ve never seen before, but it can be a little tiring during normal life.”

“It’ll probably help to get out of here then. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“You’re just leaving the house like this? What if someone breaks in?”

Spike resettled his duffel bag and picked up one of Kimiko’s suitcases from the entryway, “Willow set a few wards for me. The house is protected and will stay clean until the next time I need to use it. I already cleaned out any food that will go bad.”

Kimiko looked around the house. It was so obviously home to him that she felt bad again for convincing Spike to leave. His books, his plants, his pictures, even his duster, would all be left behind. “Aren’t you going to miss it?” she finally asked.

“I’ve got a long life ahead of me. Chances are I’ll be home again sometime.” He looked out the window to the cemetery, “Besides, I’ve got to come back to visit my girls or they’ll get lonely. Can’t leave them with only you and Faith for company.”

He and Kimiko grinned at each other for a second. Then, with a jerk of his head towards the door, they stepped out of the house and packed themselves into the car.

\--

The caverns were deathly quiet now that the last demon had been killed. Almost quiet, anyways. Maria couldn’t figure out if the ringing sound was actually audible to others or if it was just from being too close to the explosion that had almost taken her out. She picked her way around stalagmites, dismembered demon bodies, and acid pools towards the pile of fallen rock.

“Spike!” she called softly into the cave. There was no response. As she had feared, pushing her out of the way of the blast must have gotten him caught in the collapse instead. He should still be alive if she could get to him before the rest of the cavern went down. She glanced at the ceiling and began to dig through the rocks. Slayer strength made pretty quick work of the pile, even when worn down from stopping the machinations of chaos worshiping demon cultists bent on world destruction.

When she finally found him, her stomach turned. He had landed in an acid pool when he fell, leaving his skin smoking and peeling away. Bruises covered every remaining patch of skin. At least his nose and cheekbones were broken and judging by the sputtering sound when he tried to take a breath to speak, Maria would have bet that more than a couple of ribs had been crushed as well. One arm was twisted oddly. Probably out of the shoulder socket. She stooped down to clear the last bits of rubble from him.

“You’re all right. Everything will be fine. We stopped them,” Maria kept up the constant stream of whispered reassurances as she checked him over more thoroughly. His legs seemed fine. His neck and spine seemed to have escaped with no permanent damage. There would be a lot of pain, but he was sure to heal with enough blood and rest.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” she slipped an arm under his back and another under his legs, lifting him gently. The movement made him gasp, and then sputter again in pain as his broken ribs protested. The entrance wasn’t too far off, a bit of a climb but not impossible.

They had almost made it to the entrance when they were thrown backwards by a sudden flurry of blows. Maria was sent sprawling, while Spike flew out of her arms to collide unerringly with a solid rock wall. When he hit the ground and lay still, Maria couldn’t be sure if he was conscious or not.

The demon approached her. Standing at full height, he had to be over 8 feet tall. His skin looked tough and four massive arms coming from its bulky body looked ready to crush her into the ground. From her prone position, Maria could do little else but dodge the first series of punches aimed at her. She rolled, getting to her feet in a smooth movement when she had gotten far enough out of the demon’s way. She didn’t have much in the way of weapons. At least, nothing that wasn’t buried in a demon skull out of arm’s reach. The demon swung at her again, attempting to confuse her by moving all four arms in different directions, hoping to catch her should she dodge again.

A back handspring took her out of range, narrowly missing getting hit by a massive stone fist. The lumbering beast approached again. Every step seemed to shake the already unstable cavern. She looked around frantically for some kind of weapon. On her left, a little out of reach, Maria saw a long pole protruding from a corpse.

“Too slow, Rocky?” Maria taunted. She was way too tired to be clever, but hopefully the demon was too dumb to know the difference. There was a awful grinding sound of stone on stone as it tilted its head to the side. It was either confused, or its face always looked like that.

Maria continued to back up, zigzagging a bit so as not to give away what she was heading for. She maneuvered so that the poled weapon was behind her enemy. Finally, she stopped, letting the stone demon lunge at her again. With a quick side step and roll, Maria passed by the rushing golem and landed on her feet beside the demon corpse. The spear made a wet noise as it came out of the body.

The confused stone demon turned around to face his opponent, just in time to take a spear through the eye. Slayer strength made sure the hit would be the only one she needed. The stone demon collapsed, the 8-foot drop making his head hit with a powerful crash. Maria looked up at the ceiling just in time to dodge a falling boulder. The cavern groaned and shook. There was no way it was going to stay up any longer.

Maria rushed back towards the entrance. Spike lay where he had fallen before the fight, broken and still. Carefully, Maria scooped him up and ran up the steep track to the cavern entrance. The sky was lightening with the coming dawn, but it was still just dark enough to make it back to the house if she was quick.

“Spike, you need to talk to me,” she looked down at her teacher’s torn up face, “If you die on me, I will personally come down to hell to kick your ass.” Spike didn’t even twitch. Maria picked up speed, her breath coming fast and her heart beating hard. She was almost home. Willow would know what to do. The fear and adrenaline was the only thing keeping the Slayer moving forward.

Willow was waiting anxiously at Spike’s house when Maria rushed in, hugging the vampire to her chest, “What happened? You look terrible.”

Maria could feel the panic setting in as her breath hitched, “He won’t wake up! We got thrown around after he was already hurt and I can’t get him to wake up. He can’t be dead if he’s not all dusty, right?”

“Strictly speaking, he’s been dead for a long time,” Willow stopped when she started to see tears in the Slayer’s eyes, “Not that it is an appropriate time to be picking at semantics.” She prodded his consciousness tentatively with her magic, trying to get a response and failing. Not good. “Go set him on the couch, sweetie. We’ll take care of him.” As Maria went to the living room, the witch looked out the front window at the cemetery and the rising dawn, “Alright Buffy, if you have any hand in these things, now would be a really good time to intervene. I don’t know if I can find him alone.”

Willow joined Maria in the living room, kneeling next to the unconscious vampire, “His mind seems to have vacated his body, probably to escape the pain. I can try to find him, but it will take time and I’ll be out of my body. It will be up to you to watch over us. Make sure that Spike gets blood.”

Maria nodded at each explanation and instruction, “But you’ll be able to find him, right?”

“I hope so, sweetie. I have to hurry if I want to have a chance,” the witch had a grim set to her mouth that Maria didn’t like, “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Willow placed a throw pillow under her head as she lay down next to the couch. She grabbed Spike’s hand, and was gone. Maria prodded Willow, but got no response.

She spent the first few hours sitting beside her two unconscious friends but soon Maria got restless. She walked around a little, grabbing a book before sitting down again to resume her vigil. As the day wore on, Maria worried more and more. One day turned to two, and a very pregnant Alonna came over to take a shift so that Maria could rest. Spike had been bandaged up and was healing slowly. They made sure that Spike got blood and Willow got water, but there wasn’t much else to be done.

It was while Maria was watching the pair the next day that Willow finally opened her eyes, gasping as she returned fully to her body. She patted herself, seemingly to check if she was solid. Maria had wrapped the witch into a hug and was yelling for Alonna when Spike sat up suddenly, gasping out “Buffy!” He looked around frantically, he hands grabbing onto the couch to keep his still injured body upright. Maria watched the light leech from his eyes and his mouth set into a grimace as he realized that Buffy wasn’t there.

Alonna and Maria fussed over Willow for a few minutes before Maria dared to glance at Spike again. He was watching them, his face gentle once more with only the slightest echo of pain left on his features. Soon he was smiling weakly as the waddling Alonna plied him with a mug of blood and Willow with tea. He petted Maria’s hair lovingly when she settled next to him, telling him about the battle after he had passed out. Her description of the fight had him chuckling appreciatively.

“I was really worried,” she finally said, “I’m glad you’re back, Spike.”

Despite his slightly wistful expression at the thought of wherever he had been, Spike replied, “Me too, Slayer.”

Maria leaned against the vampire again, avoiding his major injuries. Everything would be alright now.

 


	3. Part 3

“Buffy!” Spike jogged down the cemetery path behind her, attempting to catch up to the fuming Slayer, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She stopped, turning around with fire in her eyes, “So you didn’t mean to say that I’m a cold, self-righteous bitch with a martyr complex?”

He knew what this was. This was one last chance to backpedal and save his ass. But if there was an easy way out, Spike would surely find the quickest way to avoid it. “No, I bloody well meant that. You were being ridiculous.”

Buffy clenched her fists with an angry growl, “Get lost before my ‘cold, self-righteous’ fist ends up in your face. I don’t want to talk to you!” She turned on her heel and continued her march back to the house.

God, he could strangle the woman sometimes. “Wait! Buffy!” Spike was once again playing catch up, only getting her to stop again when he had swung around her and into her path. She tried to move around him but he caught her by the upper arms, holding her in place, “What I meant was, I didn’t mean for you to get so angry about it. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“What part of that was not an insult?!” Buffy yanked her arms out of his grip and crossed them over her chest. The moonlight shone off of her hair, which she had left long and flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes held a dangerous glint that promised suffering to any demon she might meet on the way back to the house. She would stake him for saying it, but she was so damn hot when she was furious. Maybe if he played his cards right… Her clipped voice jolted him out of his lusting thoughts, “I’m leaving!”

What had they been talking about again? Ah, now he remembered. He jumped back to the conversation, hoping she wouldn’t notice where exactly his mind had wandered off to, “Wait! I mean that I was just being truthful.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “And that’s supposed to make it less insulting?”

“Well, yeah,” Spike rubbed his hand through his hair. Even after 159 years of life and undeath, he felt he would never understand women.

She let out an exasperated sigh, “I can’t even- You are such a man sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow, pressing up against her body as he wrapped his arms around the waist of his Slayer. She was tense from arguing, her arms still crossed in front of her chest, but she was slowly relaxing. His idiocy had that effect on her. It wasn’t like it was the first time that his tactless honesty had started a fight. “When we get back to the house, I’ll show you how much of a man I am,” Spike leered at her as his hands rubbed circles into her back.

Buffy uncrossed her arms to slap his chest, “You’re a pig, Spike.”

“You love it though,” he wiggled his eyebrows dramatically and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“We are so not done with this conversation. I want to stay mad at you for a good long time. There will be groveling, mister.”

Spike grinned, running his tongue over his teeth suggestively, “I look forward to it.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at him, “You can make absolutely anything sexual, can’t you?”

“I try. Race you home?”

Buffy took off before he could even finish the sentence. She was glorious, hurtling over headstones as she took the shortcut through the cemetery to their home. He watched her disappear around a mausoleum. If he took off now, he might still be able to win. With another wide grin, he streaked through the cemetery after his girl.

Spike watched as his past self ran off. The cemetery hadn’t changed much over the years and he could picture exactly how the race had gone. They had reached the door together and struggled over the keys to see who could get into the house first. By the time they had gotten the door unlocked, it didn’t matter anymore. Buffy’s legs had been around his waist and her hands in his hair as they kissed, stumbling through the open doorway. With his hands otherwise occupied, Spike had kicked the door closed with one booted foot. He could still smell her perfume, feel her small warm hands, hear her voice as she breathed his name.

“Spike.”

He jumped as he realized that voice was right next to him. Looking to his right, he nearly fainted. Which would have been quite a feat considering his undead state. Buffy sat on a headstone, waiting for him to recover from the shock.

She was beautiful. The Powers That Be had erased the signs of her sickness and age, allowing her to appear as the healthy 30 year-old who had just been arguing with his past self in the cemetery. She wore one of her favorite outfits, a pair of fitted jeans with a green silk blouse and boots. Spike realized that this surprised him almost as much as anything else. Despite knowing better, he had almost expected her to appear in stereotypical angelic fashion with a toga and harp.

“Of all the memories you could have chosen, you came back to this one?” Her mouth quirked a bit at the corner in a classic look of mocking amusement.

Spike shrugged, “Guess fighting with you is still better than living without you. Besides, I seem to remember some phenomenal shagging that night.”

Buffy laughed, a sound he had been worried he was starting to forget. Spike closed his eyes, trying to hold onto every detail of her. He would have swept her into his arms the moment he had seen her, but he was afraid to find out that he couldn’t touch her. Afraid that his hands would pass right through her, denying him the feel of her even when she was so close to him. She responded as her laughter faded, “If it was phenomenal shagging you were looking for, you should have jumped ahead to Christmas the year after this.”

“I don’t need to see that one again. I think it permanently seared itself into my brain in full technicolor as the most brilliant night I’ve ever had.”

They sat in silence for a while, maintaining a careful distance as they studied each other. When Spike closed his eyes again to lock in her scent, she stood. Her feet rustled the grass as she stepped closer. He kept his eyes closed, just listening as she approached. A tentative hand skimmed his cheek and at the moment of contact, they both gasped. Spike opened his eyes, bringing one hand up to cover hers, “You’re really here. I thought- I thought you couldn’t come to my dreams.”

Silent tears were tracking down both of their faces as Buffy replied, “I can’t. This is a one time thing and I don’t get much time. You’re not sleeping, Spike. You’ve locked yourself in your mind and Willow couldn’t get to you without my help. She’ll be here any minute to take you back.”

“What if I don’t go back? What happens if I stay?”

Buffy wiped at her tears with the heel of her free hand. The other hand still rested in Spike’s on his cheek. “If you stay, you’ll dust. But your soul won’t join mine. We won’t be together.”

He looked into her eyes with renewed intensity, brow furrowed, “But I’ve done everything you asked! I’m training the Slayer. What more do the Powers want from me? I just want to be with you!” Agitated energy drove Spike to his feet to pace over the cemetery path.

“You’re on the right track, but it’s not over yet. You’re not done.” Spike turned to pace another length but was pulled up short by strong arms banding around his waist from behind. Buffy rested her forehead between his shoulder blades, “Maria still needs you. You just have to hold on for a while longer.”

“How long is a while longer?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you. You’ll know when your time is done and you’ve been accepted by the Powers.”

Spike turned around in her arms, pulling Buffy into a real embrace and resting his cheek on the top of her head, “I miss you.”

Buffy raised her head, meeting his lips in a soft kiss, “I know. I hear it when you talk to me. I can’t always be watching everything, so I like to hear about how everyone is doing. And I like to hear your voice.”

“Spike?! Spike?! Are you here?!” The couple looked down the cemetery path, catching sight of their redheaded witch friend.

“I’m over here!” Spike yelled back, pulling Buffy more securely into his arms.

Willow caught sight of them, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘O’ at the sight of Buffy. She locked eyes with Spike and the memory around them slowly dissolved as Spike’s consciousness started to be pulled back to reality.

“No! Not yet!” He tried to lock his arms around Buffy to keep her with him, but she slipped away with the memory, passing through the space between his fingers like water. “Don’t leave me yet! Buffy!”

Faintly, he heard her voice, “I love you.”

Spike’s eyes opened and he sat upright, searching. “Buffy!” He was wrapped in a blanket on his couch. Maria, Alonna, and Willow watched him with sad eyes as he realized that Buffy wasn’t there. She was gone.

\--

The jet of boiling water just missed Kimiko’s head as she rolled behind the jagged remains of a wall. Overhead, the large dragon disappeared, the low rumble of its breath the only indication that it was still in the area.

From the top of the ruins, Spike shouted, “Watch it, Slayer! Lesson the first: don’t get hit!” He leaped down to circle to the opposite side of the clearing, hoping to pull some attention away from Kimi as she righted herself and shifted the crossbow in her hand. They searched the air above but the creature had blended into the darkness and mist that clung to the skies. Another shot of water hit near Spike, ripping his pant leg, “Damn it! This is the third pair this week. You’ll bloody well pay for that you oversized lizard!”

“Gee, Spike. Maybe you should try not getting hit,” Kimi grinned as she shifted her feet into a ready stance, holding the crossbow close to her chest. If another shot came, she would be able to dodge in any direction.

“Oi! Who’s teaching this lesson here?” Spike glared.

She rolled her eyes, “Please impart to me your wisdom, Watcher-san.”

The dragon reappeared, swooping down with claws extended towards the girl.

“Dragon is coming at you and you have a crossbow to take it down. What do you aim for?” Buffy quizzed as she and Chi circled the battle.

“Wing joints or under the jaw. Once it’s down, through its eyes,” Chi recited.

They stopped behind Kimiko. The dragon had managed to get a taloned foot around one arm while she was setting up her shot and she was fighting to shift her crossbow into her free arm, avoiding the snapping jaws of the beast. Spike leaped onto the dragon’s back while it was distracted, grabbing hold of its wings where they met its back and tugging.

Buffy continued moving, avoiding the phantom images by habit as they shadowed the combatants. “Why those places?”

Chi scrunched her brow briefly as she thought. She looked the dragon over, “Those places have to be flexible to allow movement. There’s no armor.”

“Good. And why do you only go for the eyes once the dragon is down?”

The dragon reared back in an attempt to throw Spike from its back, releasing Kimi. She rolled back, reset her crossbow, and took careful aim as the creature flailed. When she was sure that Spike was out of her way, she let a bolt fly. With a twitch of its head, the dragon caught the bolt against the scales of its face.

“Shit,” Kimi and Spike swore in tandem as the dragon screeched, pushing off of the ground with its powerful hind legs. Strong wing strokes threw Slayer and vampire a few feet back, both covering their faces against the storm of dust and debris, and the dragon once again disappeared into the cloud cover.

Chi tried not to grin as the other Slayer picked herself off the ground. Kimiko was covered in a film of dust from her black hair down to her neon trainers. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and shook it out, combing sticks and grass out with her fingers. “Because the eye is too small of a target and the shots are easily avoided. Once the dragon is injured and grounded, you can hold its head and fire the bolt with more assurance of success.”  

The air above was silent. The dragon had moved on for the night.

Spike had an irritated look on his face that Buffy recognized from her own days in a Slayer/Watcher team. “Lesson the second: listen to the soddin’ mission briefing when I give it. I told you to shoot for the wings! Now we have to hunt the damned thing down again.” He stood and began brushing himself off, glaring at the girl who couldn’t help smirking back at him.

“Well, you told me you were bored. Consider this my contribution to your sanity.” Kimiko had managed to shake off most of the dust, restoring her bright pink hoodie to its normal blinding color. “Are we done for tonight then, Watcher-san?” She checked the display on her wrist, noting the time, “I think I can still make the party at the docks.”

“Don’t let me stop you. I’m just the vampire that you’re trying to get killed.”

Kimi flashed her brightest smile at him, already starting to jog back towards the city, “Coolness! Catch you later.”

Spike sighed before bending forward and ruffling his hands through his short hair to release the remaining dirt. He chuckled to himself as he straightened. “I never thought I’d see the day I sympathized with Rupert.”

The clouds were beginning to clear now that the beast that had summoned them had departed and the stars shone brightly above. Spike sat heavily, looking up at the sky. There were too many street lights in the city where he kept his new apartment to really see the stars. This reminded him of home, where he would lay for hours in the grass near Buffy’s grave wrapped in the comforting darkness pretending she was beside him, just out of reach.

Buffy stood in front of Spike, watching his eyes grow soft as he gazed upward. She let her hand skim close to his face, ghosting over his forehead and around his eyes to trace the well known planes of his cheeks and jaw. She didn’t allow her hand to get close enough to touch. Letting her hand pass through Spike would remind her that this was just an image of the past, an illusion created in the mind of a sleeping girl. For the moment, she could pretend.

“I miss you, Buffy. Now and always.”

Chi pretended that she didn’t see the tears on Buffy’s face.

\--

“What was she like?” Chi stood at Spike’s side, looking at the graves of her predecessors. Despite their age, the headstones looked brand new. Where other graves sported years of untended weeds, the grass in front of these two gave way to beautiful daffodils, daisies, pansies, and tulips. It was otherworldly, even ignoring the fact that some of the plants shouldn’t grow in the climate or season. There was a slight smoky smell in the air and some ash in a brass bowl on the ground, like someone had recently burned an offering, and a few folded letters lay among the flowers.

Spike stooped in front of Buffy’s grave, running reverent fingers over the carved words, “S’not like you haven’t met her. Hell, you’ve spent more time with her this year than I have in the past hundred years.”

The young Slayer shifted on her feet again, maintaining her careful posture, “I’ve seen her how she is now, but… She’s sad now. Lonely. Serious. When you and Willow talk about her, it sounds like that’s not who she was when she was alive.”

“No, it’s not,” his hand stopped moving for a minute while he considered her question, “Buffy was- she is everything that is light and life and fire. Her energy was boundless and I’ve still never met anyone who loved like Buffy. Everyone was worth her time and her protection. She would have sacrificed anything for the world, and she did. She was also a right annoying bint, who loved her moral high ground almost more than she loved the world. Her jabs landed on my nose more times than I would care to count. She took everything personally and could throw a barb with the worst kind of accuracy. Don’t even get me started on her excessive shoe collection. God, I loved her. Still do.”

“That’s good to hear,” a masculine voice replied.

Spike whirled around, weapon in hand. A little man stood leaning on a nearby gravestone. He tipped his bowler hat at Chi before turning back to Spike.

Spike growled low in his chest, “Who the bloody hell are you?”

The little man held up his hands, “No shooting the messenger. I was told to tell you that this is your sign. You’re done. The Powers have finally green-lighted your pass to the beyond.”

“What?” Spike was stunned. There had to be a mistake or some kind of trick. He had been waiting for so long that he had almost forgotten Buffy’s words about receiving a sign when it was time. A few times after Maria had died, when he let himself get sloshed and gave into his feelings of loss and loneliness, he would start thinking that Buffy had just said that to keep him living. That it had been a pretty lie to a desperate man.

“You can go. Scurry your scrawny ass from this plane and join your girlfriend. She’s waiting for you on the other side.”

Chi watched the emotions flash across Spike’s face in rapid succession. Apprehension, surprise, fear, joy, and finally sad determination, “No.”

Now it was the messenger who was confused, “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Spike stepped menacingly forward, keeping his body between the messenger and Chi. “I mean that I can’t go. Green light from the Powers or not, I’m not leaving for the other plane. Do you need me to knock the information into your head?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No need for violence. I just want to know, why? This is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“There are people here that depend on me. Tell Buffy… Tell Buffy that I’ll see her someday soon. That I love her.”

“Tell her yourself.” The new voice from his right made Spike freeze. All of his senses were buzzing with recognition, like these were the sensations that they had been made for. Her scent, her voice, washed over him. Even after all these years, her presence could make his stomach flutter and his knees buckle. He slowly turned, praying that this wasn’t a trick or a hallucination.

The messenger turned to look at her as well, “I can still change his mind. Just butt out and give me a few more minutes to convince him.”

Buffy’s fists went to her cocked hips. “Nope. Face it, you lost. Pay up.” She stuck her hand out expectantly.

The messenger grumbled, taking his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. He slapped the bill into Buffy’s palm. “You gonna need any help with this?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, I’ve got it covered. Say bye to everyone for me. Enjoy the new gig.”

“Will do, Slayer. It’s been a pleasure.” The little man tipped his bowler hat and disappeared with a pop.

The cemetery was empty of everyone but Spike and his two Slayers. Chi walked away quietly and began pulling weeds at another headstone, a ways down the path, giving the reunited couple some semblance of privacy. Buffy lifted her eyes to Spike who still stood unmoving and unblinking in front of her grave. She waited patiently for him to find his voice. Just like the last time he had seen her, she looked young and healthy, dressed in her green shirt and jeans. He walked forward slowly, stopping two feet in front of her.

Spike reached a hand towards her tentatively, brushing the cool silk of her shirt with the backs of his fingers. A chill raced down his spine. She was real. She was here. There was so much that he needed to say, but every sensible sentence was tied up in his tongue so all that came out was, “What was the bet?”

“What?” Buffy followed Spike’s gaze to the twenty in her hand, “Oh! Whistler thought that you would want to ascend. I bet him that when the time came, you would choose to stay on this plane. If he won, I owed him a twenty and had to be his personal errand runner for a century. So not fun.” She slid the money into the back pocket of her jeans.

“And if you won?”

“He owed me a twenty, and I got to steal his job. You’re looking at the new Earthly messenger for the Powers That Be. Benefits include dental, vision, and immortality. I also get a killer 401k plan.” She waited again for her news to sink in, biting her lip as the silence stretched.

Spike’s eyes locked on to Buffy’s, “You’re staying?”

She smiled gently, “Yeah.” She squealed as she was swept up into Spike’s arms. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, wanting to keep looking into his eyes as the words sunk in and he smiled back. They kissed, giddy and laughing as Spike spun them around, and kissed again. He didn’t need to ask for details now. For the first time in 120 years, he knew that everything was going to be alright.

\--

“Gold 1, report.” Chi’s voice came clearly over Buffy’s ear piece. Buffy waved her hand at Spike, who quieted immediately.

Vampire and Slayer looked over the edge of the building that they stood atop to the streets below. To their right, a gathered group of allies. Behind Chi, Buffy thought she could spot the contingent of Watchers and witches, working up protective wards that glistened in the air. A group of human-friendly demons stood to another side, eying the Watcher’s warily but trusting in the truce they had formed with the strong-willed Chinese Slayer. To the left, cloaked in what Buffy could only describe as a dark cloud of magic and hate, the advancing lines of the latest evil demon army.

Buffy pushed the button on her ear piece. “The enemy is advancing down 3rd St, just passing Chester. Civilians have been cleared from the area. We estimate about 260 demons and at least 4 witches.” The blonde Slayer cut off for a second to bat away her amorous companion before continuing, “No visible wards, but they have something brewing. I’d advise having Willow check it out.” Despite her glare of warning, Spike slid up behind her to kiss and lick her neck as she gave her report, his hands caressing her hips before resting on her waist.

Buffy clicked off her ear piece, having finished her talk with Chi, and turned on the vampire behind her. “You’re impossible. I’m trying to handle an apocalypse here.”

Spike smirked at her, completely ignoring her exasperated glare. “Can I help it if you look edible in Kevlar?” He ran his hands up and down her sides, appreciating the tight fitting body armor. “Besides, it’s not our first apocalypse. Not even our tenth.”

“Well let’s make sure it’s not going to be our last. Ready, fang-face?” Buffy leaned close to Spike, who met her in an affectionate kiss. “Love you. 

He smiled, brushing her cheek lightly with his fingers. “I love you too.”

Spike and Buffy pulled apart, looking down into the streets again to check the status of the battle. The front lines of both armies were just starting to clash below. They exchanged feral grins as Spike pulled a sword from the scabbard on his back and Buffy tested the weight of her axe, giving it a few experimental swings.

“I bet I kill more than you.”

“You’re on, Slayer.”  

They shared one more lingering look before vampire and Slayer jumped from the building and into the brawl below.   


End file.
